'The spirit does not give numbers by force,' he slowly announced. 'You have offended him. He will not speak to me again.'
'Lies—you are telling lies! A hundred—a thousand times you have told us that the spirit obeys you, that you do what you like with him,' retorted the Marquis. 'A hundred thousand times you have told us that the urn is under orders. Tell the truth; it will be best for you, I assure you. You are at a bad pass, Don Pasqualino; the spirit ought to help you. Our patience is exhausted, so is our money, and other people's, too. The spirit must give you the right numbers.'
Then the medium stood silent for a little, as if he was collecting himself, his eyes turned up showing the whites. Everyone looked at him, but coldly, being accustomed to these antics of his.
'In a little the camellias will flower,' he said suddenly, trembling all over.
But not one of the company troubled himself about this mystic giving out of lottery numbers. Dr. Trifari, who always carried a book of dreams in his pocket, did not even take out the torn book to see what figures corresponded to the camellias.
'In a little the camellias will flower by the sea, on the mountain,' repeated the medium, still trembling.
No one stirred.
'In a little the camellias will flower by the sea, on the mountain,' he repeated the third time, trembling with anxiety, looking his persecutors in the face.
An incredulous snigger answered him.